What Is Left
by Maruaderette
Summary: The seqel to Solider Slighted and number two in a trilogy. Hermione answers the door, tears, blood, and laughter are quick to follow.


**Disclaimer: I don't own, neither do you, unless you're JK, so please don't sue.**

_War does not decide who is right, but who is left._

"I'll be right down," That's all she had said, but in a way it gave Ron a flicker of hope.

The sound of footsteps down stairs, from the window, Crookshanks jumped down to greet his mistress. A pleased meow, Ron's heart pounded, more footsteps. "Shoo, Crookshanks."

The sound of a door unlocking, Ron's bad leg hurt a bit, he didn't care. This was happening; the only thing separating the two now was the door. The final barrier was gone Hermione had opened the door.

"You look like you did when you were eighteen, still beautiful," Ron said in awe.

It was true. Hermione was still a good foot shorter then him, same bushy hair, slightly rounded face with bright brown eyes. She gasped at him, "Oh Merlin…Ron you're not supposed to be here…you disappeared, where were you? Why did you come back? Oh Merlin."

From around her legs, Crookshanks gave a suspicious sniff at the redhead. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I'll leave if you want. It's just that I was doing some thinking and I decided to look you up and it was such a stupid idea. You don't want to see me," Ron turned to leave, but found himself tackled to the ground by Hermione, who was now crying and hugging him fiercely.

"Please, don't leave, Ron. It's just," She hiccupped, "You vanished for nearly six years. Everyone thinks you're dead. What until your mother knows-"

"No," Ron interrupted sharply, "She can't know. I can't go back. I killed him."

"What are you talking about?"

Ron didn't respond, but hugged the brunette tightly, occasionally petting her wild mane. The two remained like this, for how long Ron wasn't sure, but he was certain it hadn't been long enough, finally, Hermione stood up. "Come inside, I'll fix you some tea,"

Ron nodded, but couldn't stand up, his leg was pounding viciously now and he didn't fancy trying to walk on it. He didn't to show his flaw to her, it was suddenly embarrassing, his leg.

Hermione offered her hand, Ron tentatively took it, as soon as he stood, his leg screamed in objection. He did his best to ignore it. The two walked up the path and through the still open door, pausing only once to admire the young tree Hermione was growing.

"Sit down," Hermione instructed to Ron when they reached the room where he had first seen Crookshanks, "I'll make a quick pot of hot tea and we can catch up."

Ron nodded and sank into the chair with relief; the room was small but in a cozy way. Books were neatly placed on shelves with the exclusion of the ones the ginger cat was sleeping on once again. The room was a pale yellow with a soft type of carpeting Ron couldn't identify.

Ron wanted to see what the other rooms looked like, but knew it was out of the question. He was here to see Hermione and only Hermione.

_That's so romantic it's depressing. _

'Bugger, the voice was back.'

_You bet, Ronnie boy. She hasn't sent you packing yet; perhaps she's poisoning the tea?_

'I'm going to ignore you.'

_Fat chance, I'm part of you. I'm not leaving and you can't make me. _

"Ron, are you okay? You seem lost in thought?" Hermione returned and offered him a cup.

The redhead inspected it, the cup seemed old and was painted with small blue flowers woven together by vines, and it really was quite quaint. Taking a sip, Ron smiled, "It is easy to get lost in unfamiliar territory."

Hermione laughed and it was music to Ron's ears. The voice seemed to be subdued by the woman. There were a few moments of silent tea sipping, then the brow-eyed-woman blurted, "Giant polar bear,"

Ron gave her a strange look, "What?"

In a serious tone, she replied, "It broke the ice."

They both laughed and began to talk. They both skirted around certain subjects, Hermione of her family and Ron of himself, after awhile, a clock chimed, it was already two o'clock.

Hermione jumped slightly, "Are you done with your tea?"

Ron nodded and handed her the long empty cup. She left for the kitchen and the man could hear water running. Ron sighed, if only it could be like this all the time. Just the two if them, living together, having tea and chatting from noon to two, it would be heaven.

_You're going to hell. Heaven is for the good people._

' I am a good person. Hermione forgave me.'

_I never heard her say it._

'But she let me in, we had tea, and we talked.'

_Not about everything. You didn't tell her where you live, what you do for a living, or even your crippled leg. _

'Shut up._'_

_Face it she doesn't want you. No one would. You are flawed, imperfect. Why do you deserve her? What did she do to be burdened with you? You wouldn't be able to even walk down the isle._

'Dr. Terrance said that if the pain stopped I would be able to walk again-'

_What's your stupid leg doing now? It's hurting you! There will be no improvement! Stop building these stupid castles in the sky! Hermione can do much better than you! She has already!_

'What are you talking about?'

_Come on, you're not that thick, are you? Fourth year, she had Victor Krum! He's got to be filthy rich by now. You can't compete. You aren't good enough, you'll never be. Give up, already!_

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked from the kitchen, "You're awfully quiet."

The voice couldn't be subdued again, _Yeah, Ron, why so quiet finally realizing what I say is true?_

The redhead stood up, his leg ached, he stumbled as he tried to walk, "I'll be in there in a second, Hermione."

_Give up. You'll never get there._

'No.'

The swayed dangerously, but regained his balance. Crookshanks woke up and stretched. The ginger cat didn't give him a glance, but trotted away on his bandy legs with a type of haughtiness.

"Ron, it's nearly a quarter past one, you have to leave soon."

_She doesn't want you. Get out. You're just wasting her time. Go hobble to the door and leave._

Ron's head, heart, and leg all pounded in the same rhythm. The carpet felt like slick ice, making it his left leg spasm and slip. He gritted his teeth and kept walking. Only a few more steps. He could do this.

_No you can't._

"Ron, I'm expecting someone, you really have to go."

Five steps.

_You'll never make it._

"Ron, please, if you wouldn't mind letting yourself out, we can always visit again."

Four steps. The left leg seemed to be on fire; Ron bit his lip to keep from screaming.

_You can't do it. You're too weak!_

"Ron? Are you still there?"

Three, the coppery tastes of blood, he had bit his lip that hard.

_STOP! YOU GOD DAMN IDIOT!_

"Ron? Ron? If you're there answer me!"

Almost there, two steps, if he could, he would have been able to jump into the room. Hermione was cooking something she didn't notice his struggle. He felt horridly dizzy now.

_DON'T YOU DARE TAKE ONE MORE STEP! OR I'LL MAKE YOU REGRET IT YOU BASTARD!_

"Mum? I'm home," It was a boy's voice, he sounded young.

"Elliot! Go to your room, hurry!" Hermione cried spinning around.

_"Mum, who's he?" The boy asked pointing to Ron._

_I knew she didn't want you! She's a mother now! Leave Hermione alone and stop screwing with her life! She's happy! Let her and her son be, they don't want you and they don't need you! You're nothing but a stubborn cripple who deserves to die!_

It was too much. Ron began to scratch at his face, "Leave me alone! Get out of my head!"

His leg finally gave out, and Ron fell to the ground. His head hit the linoleum hard, and blood trickled from a cut in his forehead.

"Oh my dear God! Ron! Are you okay! Elliot grab the phone! Call 911!" Hermione dropped to her knees and cradled the man's head in her arms.

"Yes, Mum!" The boy ran up the stairs to get the phone from his mother's room.

" Hermione?" Ron says weakly as the faint sound of sirens appear in the background.

"Yes, Ron?"

"I think I need help."

Tears welled up in brown eyes, "I'll make sure you get all the help you need."

"Don't cry. I didn't wanna make you cry," Ron's voice is becoming a bit slurred, the siren wails grow louder.

"Mum! They're here!" Elliot says as paramedics rush in, Ron is quickly placed on a stretcher and is carried to the car. Hermione follows, her son does not. She clutches Ron's hand in two of her own.

" 'Ermione," Ron's speech is now barely understandable, "I still love you."

The redhead shuts his eyes and his breathing is slowed. Hermione is now crying again, she clutches the hand tighter now, still feeling the slight flutter of a pulse. Around her, paramedics franticly tell the driver to hurry; Ron's head may be bleeding on the inside as well. The sirens wail and they slip an oxygen mask over his face.

Hermione notices nothing but Ron, "I love you too," She whispers to the red-haired man, "I love you, too."

After what seems like an eternity, the make it to a hospital. Ron is quickly sent to an emergency head trauma area, Hermione sinks into a plastic chair in the waiting room. It will be a long night and Hermione will have to make plans for someone to take Elliot.

She hates herself for a moment. For a brief amount of time, after Ron had dissapeared, Hermione had blamed him for Harry's death. Only when she found out she was pregnant did she realize that nothing was made up of what was or what could be.

Only what is left.

**A/N: After everyone who reviewed Solider Slighted asked for a sequel I had to write on. Yes, I know this one is ends in a type of cliffhanger as well, but I have a third story planned, because all good trilogies come in three. **

**M.**


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